


Southern Hospitality

by Alliance (Xazz)



Series: Cypress Hall [54]
Category: Flight Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Alliance





	Southern Hospitality

[Jericho](http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=252770&tab=dragon&did=21554960)had to practically jog to keep up with Setekh’s long-legged stride as she was making her way from one meeting to another. He was keeping his datapad close while Setekh was talking to him about something. He was only half listening and half rearranging her schedule because that last meeting had them running a bit late. Every now and then he made an affirmative noise in his throat so she knew he was listening.

At the door to their next meeting Setekh stopped and Jericho nearly bumped into her. He’d have lost more than his job if he did that so was glad he didn’t. “Ma’am?” he asked when she didn’t open the door right away for them.

“I need you to go do something for me, darling,” she said.

“Ye-yes! Of course, ma’am, what can I do for you?” he asked, his head feathers fluffing up a bit.

“I forgot to send it earlier so you’ll have to do it in person. In my office there’s a message in the top right drawer of my desk. I want you to deliver it personally.”

“Ah-yes! Of course. Where in Atlas is it?”

“It isn’t. Now go,” and she dismissed him and entered the next conference room for their meeting.

Jericho’s antenna twitched. Not in the city? He slumped, his shoulders sagging and trudged his way back to Setekh’s office. He did as bid and took out the fancy envelope. It was lettered for a place he’d never heard of. Clan Cypress Hall? Where the hell was that? What sort of stupid name was that? He entered it into the datapad to find the coordinates. “You’ve got to be kidding meeee,” he groaned. It was all the way north, practically in the Sunbeam Ruins right in the middle of the fucking swamp. He’d be gone practically all day on this errand. Why did Setekh think it was so important he had to do this himself?

Grumbling to himself, certainly not loud enough for any cameras or microphones to pick up, he took the message and left. He put his things back in his desk and got ready for a flight. At the very least his cybernetic wings would get him there faster than most non Wind dragons. The faster he got there the faster he came back.

—

It was miserable in the swamps. It was hot and humid and there were _bugs_. Jericho hated bugs. He was regretting the sweater too. But he found the place. It was on an island barely above a bog. It was dark out but the lights were on inside a lavish wooden house protected by a black iron fence. He landed inside the fence and went up to the door. He could hear movement inside as he looked for a doorbell. It was proper to use a doorbell. When he found none he realized, to his horror, he needed to knock.

He knocked. No one answered. He knocked louder. He just wanted to go home. It was hours to fly home but he wanted to get out of this swamp. He knocked louder a third time. He was just about to leave when the door opened, warm yellow light spilling out onto the flagstone walkway.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Jericho couldn’t say anything. He was completely and utterly tongue-tied because the most beautiful imperial he’d ever seen was standing in front of him. His horns were pierced and jeweled and his eyes were somehow both snowblind and warm. He was also not wearing a shirt. Jericho shrunk into his turtleneck, vibrating.

“Uh… Did you need something? Are you lost?” he asked Jericho nicely with a curl of a smile across their lips.

“A-ah uh— I have this,” and he thrust the letter at the Imperial.

“Oh, why thank you,” they took it, looked at it and opened it. He giggled at what he read and tucked some of his midnight black hair behind his ear. “Master, Setekh says she wants to have dinner!” he called into the house.

“Now?” an older skydancer appeared with warm eyes and a well-kept beard. He was something else to focus on since Jericho _could not_ talk to the Imperial. “Oh, hello. Who’re you?” he asked as he took the letter from the Imperial. “You being nice, Nephy?”

“I’m always nice,” the Imperial grinned.

“I’m Jericho, Setekh’s assistant,” he blurted out.

The Master looked up at him from under his brows. “So she finally broke the last one, huh? I told her she needed to be more careful with them. Ah well. Thank you for delivering the message, Jericho. I’m sure Setekh is missing you.”

“Master he can’t leave now. It’s so late,” Nephy? complained. “Johanna would be cross if we made him fly home so late at night.” He pouted at the Master and Jericho could just not look away but at the same time wanted to hide.

The Master tapped the side of the letter into the palm. “Well, you’re more than welcome to stay the night, Jericho. I’ll tell Tanduay to bring out some food.”

“No, I couldn’t,” he swallowed.

“Nonsense. Come in, come in,” the Master said warmly and beckoned him inside. Jericho glanced at Nephy and the Imperial just gave him a flirty little smile.

Oh dear.

He went inside.


End file.
